


I kept clinging onto the past and hoped the future would be the same

by direwolfofhighgarden



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotionally Repressed, F/F, Fluff and Angst, and if my writing is worth anything you'll understand at least some of this story, if I'm worth anything as an author you will feel at the very least just utterly heartbroken for Marg, this is what I hope, uber sad Maragery!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:52:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/direwolfofhighgarden/pseuds/direwolfofhighgarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say not to devote your life to something that could easily be lost. When that one thing is another person, and when that one person becomes your entire world, what happens to your life when all of that suddenly changes? When Margaery Tyrell met Sansa Stark, she could not have ever anticipated the love, the heartbreak, and the sorrow that would have followed them from their very first encounter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> More than anything, I wanted to write something that resonated with humanity. I wanted to write Margaery as a human and to deviate from the fairy tale love stories I'm so used to writing. I wanted to experiment with psychology and I hoped that I'd stylized it well enough in the plot of the story and in the structure to focus on the implications of psychology, perception, mentality, etc.
> 
> You'll notice as you're reading that there are subsections within the chapters. Each subsection is labelled according to a code that will help in interpreting the story. Each section is a fic of its own, and though it seems completely fragmented, each is a different facet that relates to Margaery in this story- how it does relate to her exactly, is to be deciphered through the codes of the sections and its context. Hopefully, the ending can also help in establishing deeper understanding of the themes the story exhibits and its implications. There is definitely some structure here, and I'm hoping I've coded it well enough to be able to have artistic quality but also to have merit in regards to the plot.
> 
> The code is rather simple, and I believe some of you can catch what's happening to the story without having to read the ending. If you're interested, or if things just aren't clicking the way I'd intended them to, I'll post more of my notes either here or will provide a link to my tumblr that will delve further into interpretation, or you can just message me and I'll gladly discuss anything with you.

Margaery was a girl of promise. When she was much younger, she had been teased often for her large, round eyes. She'd often felt slightly self-conscious of their plain colour and general blandness, but she grew to become appreciative of herself. She was a girl who had grown into her looks, and she was one of those children who knew they were special by the amount of attention adults gave them. Even without prodding and conditioning, she was a child of the utmost manner, composing her character with sophistication no young child at her tender age could fathom, but she understood its importance and stuck with it. She never let the endearments of the adults around her get to her head, and this is what distinguished her from the other insufferable children.

At sixteen, she had her family, friends, colleagues, strangers at her graces. Her big brown eyes had yet to see much of the world and her innocence never burned her. She was intelligent, she was well-mannered, never brash or mean and everyone loved her for reasons of their own. As she grew older, she became a woman of her word, another facet of what she had yet to accomplish in her life. Sometimes, her word became her demise, and it was almost no different when she met a certain Sansa Stark. What did change, however, was when she devoted her life to the girl. There was no way Margaery could have anticipated how shattered she could have been without the girl, and even now she couldn't fathom it.

 

**Spring, 2013**

She always chose a window seat, not necessarily repulsed by the aisle, but she always felt the inclination to always know her surroundings. This compulsive need for total awareness both benefited her and haunted her, but she did not let that bother her.

She stared out the window watching buildings roll by. There were more people seen outside walking today as the burgeoning signs of tolerable temperature became more imminent, but Margaery opted for the bus merely for convenience.

Knowing the bus route by memory, there was a slight hitch in her stomach that prepared her for the bus to stop. As if on cue, the bus began to prepare to slow down to meet the passengers at the grocery store stop. It approached an auburn-haired girl, standing precisely and gracefully with but one bag and a book clutched to her chest. She was tall, a bit on the lanky side but more slender than clumsy. She was a pretty girl, and Margaery didn't avert her gaze.

She continued watching as the girl stepped onto the bus, pleasantly greeted the bus driver whom she seemed to know by name, and scanned the bus for a place to sit. Margaery had still been staring, and saw some colour appear on the girl's cheeks as she met Margaery's eyes. She smiled sweetly at Margaery and quickly dropped her eyes, focusing rather intently on getting to her seat. Margaery grinned to herself as she stared at the window again, ignoring the surroundings outside and this time focusing on the reflection of the girl sitting three seats behind her. The girl also favoured a window seat, and was blinking rather frequently when Margaery realized that the girl may not have been looking at the scenery beyond the window either.

**An apartment building, suite number 502**

She stormed through the open thresholds, starting first from the kitchen and then into the living room. The lack of doors in their suite to promote a more open feel of the small apartment space meant that she had to exhibit her anger in the more carefully appointed displays of tossing her shoes off, dropping the groceries carelessly on the counter, slamming cupboards and furiously escaping her coat.

“Why the hell would you do that?”

“Well I'm sorry, if I need your approval for everything. I didn't realize I couldn't make my own decisions.”

“It's not just your decision, it involves the both of us. The least I want is to be part of the discussion when something concerns the both of us.”

“No, the least you want is just short of the best. Anything else, it has to be perfect. Isn't that right?”

Her voice shook now, rising with anger and rattling with the grief of conflict. “You know damn well that is not right at all, stop asking stupid questions and making stupid remarks that are not true.”

“Oh, now I'm stupid, nothing but stupid. I'm just seething with stupidity, I am stupid personified, and I make stupid remarks and ask stupid questions. Does that not sit well with your need for perfection? Why the hell are you even dating me?”

Something struck a nerve inside the girl, and something paralyzed her completely. The girl watched as the other continued storming around, crashing through every trivial duty she did to keep herself occupied. The question marked itself like hot metal branding itself on the most painful of spots, burning itself into the girl with utter falsities and evil untruths.

“I love you. How could you even ask that?” She paused, trying to collect herself again but not being able to ignore the scorching metal entirely. “Can we please stop acting like idiots? I'm dating you because I love you. I'm sorry I yelled at you and that I swore at you. I can't stand fighting with you like this when there's no reason to at all.”

_Well, I don't love you._

The girl, if it was even possible, was struck again with the same paralysis. “What the hell did you say?” She enunciated every word like she meant for each of them to throw their own punches; she spoke with cold ferocity despite the feeling of that branding metal now melting into her veins. Had Sansa actually said anything, or had she simply been imagining it?

“I said, there's no reason for you to be with me when I can't even be what you want, let alone give you what you want. You have to quit zoning out like that.”

No, Margaery thought. You have it all wrong. No matter what you think and what is said, the problem isn't you.

Margaery stood unmoved and shell-shocked. The only word that ever seemed to have any significance to her at that moment, the only word that she saw through the haze and latched onto was one single word, imploring and entreating: “don't.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summer, 2013**

“You look like the kind of girl who would read naughty erotica at the far end of the library, secluding herself with shelves and book carts to make sure nobody saw you reading it.”

Sansa let out a gasp, marking the scandalous notion of Margaery's words. “You couldn't possibly... seriously?” She was blushing furiously, and Margaery basked in the affect.

“Yes, seriously! You are too good, a girl like you has got to have her vices.”

“Shhhhhh.” A voice came from a shelf behind them, reminding them of where they were.

“Well, you look the kind of girl to call me out on it in front of the whole library, and no matter if it got you kicked out. You just love seeing me squirm.” Sansa spoke quietly, giving her observation of Margaery as a matter of fact.

“You know me so well.” Margaery, in turn, smiled in spite of herself, appreciating the girl's truthful consideration. “Should I suppose then, that this means you know I'll be asking you for another date?”

“What? A da- what? A date? Another?” Sansa sputtered her words, completely losing her mental composure and what soon seemed to be her physical composure as well. “What...?” She trailed off, still struggling for her words.

“I guess that means you didn't suspect it then! Well, now, I shall take it upon myself to ask. May you delight me with your company for another day?”

“What makes you think this is a date?” Sansa shot through her sentence, and the red that rushed to her cheeks instantaneously suggested that it was one of the rare moments she'd spoken her mind.

“I'm enjoying my time with you, I'm getting to know you better. Every opportunity, to me, is a date.”

“Shouldn't a date involve me giving you something?” Sansa spoke playfully again. She was trying to compose herself now and gathered her wits to match Margaery's.

Margaery smirked devilishly, carefully taking out a rose from the inside of her jacket and handing it to the girl. “I always come prepared for a date.” She revelled in the word, doting on it for Sansa's discomfort. “And don't you think you can get away with just me giving you something. A date works two ways, love. Now you have to give me something.”

“What would you like?”

“Oh, just another date with your lovely self, you know what I'd like.”

Before she knew it, perhaps even before Sansa knew it, their lips were pressed together. Sansa was breathless, though she was the one who moved in to close the space, and Margaery stood frozen in her place. She let Sansa linger on her lips and brought her closer when the girl was about to pull away. She kissed her surely, letting her hands land on Sansa's waist and took in every memory that her senses could gather.

When they pulled themselves apart, they stared at each other silently.

“I could do with another date too, if that's what you would have liked instead.” The shadow of a grin seemed to be forming on Sansa's lips, but before Margaery could really see if she'd been imagining it, Sansa was already gathering her bag and her books.

“No, no. I liked the kiss. Very much so.”

“So no date then?”

“I'd like for us to have a next time.”

“A date, and a kiss? Margaery Tyrell, you are becoming quite selfish. Looks like you owe me now.”

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I think you know.”

Margaery let Sansa walk ahead, standing dumbfound and in awe of the girl. When she was just a few paces away, Sansa looked back to make sure Margaery was following her, but the way she prolonged the stare only meant that she was enforcing a challenge, and Margaery would gladly oblige.

**Highgarden can be your home too**

“I'm so worried for my family, Margaery.”

“Sweet girl, I am too. But there's only so much we can do right now.”

“I don't know what I would do if anything should happen to them.” She paused in her thoughts, but continued to keep stride beside Margaery. “I think I would go mad.”

The two girls were taking one of their many strolls in the gardens. Margaery had always called for Sansa, and though the girl was shy at first to spend so much time alone with the older girl, she learned to become more relaxed.

“If you go mad, I'll go mad. I'll follow you anywhere!” Margaery was smiling ruefully, hoping the girl wouldn't catch the sentiment, which is what she seemed to have done, and she spoke hastily to assure her companion.

“I'll be okay. I'll always be okay if you're here.”

She smiled easily now, always in wonder of the girl's sweet innocence. “Then that means you should come with me to Highgarden.” She looked at Sansa, making sure the girl was processing the idea. “We'll always be together, and there will be no one to hurt you there. You won't be left with want, anything you could ever need would be yours.”

Sansa seemed to muse over the possibility but still seemed rather uncertain. “Well, I don't think I could leave so easily. The queen will have something to say if I were to leave.” She flinched at the mention of the queen and Margaery saw more to the source of her reluctance.

“No one's here to stop you. She's not the queen anyhow, her son, Tommen, is the actual king. If he entreated you to stay here against your wishes, everyone would know it to be his mother's doing. Everyone would know she has no use for you to stay here other than to watch over you, and that's not fair.” Margaery, in spite of herself, was becoming heated with anger, and all the mornings of presenting the proposition to Sansa was now bordering on imploring desperation.

“Come with me to Highgarden, Sansa. You'll find a home there too. We will wait there for your family, we could take walks and visit the gardens and stroll through the town. There are so many beautiful things in Highgarden, and you belong there.”

Sansa blushed, catching onto the girl's compliment. “I really just want to be where you are. I don't care anymore, I just don't want to be alone.”

Margaery stopped now. They found themselves in a more secluded garden, with a gate just several paces away that led to another area and trees tactfully shielding them from the sun and uninvited intruders. She took Sansa's hands and looked up at the girl who stood just slightly taller than her.

“You don't have to be alone anymore, I'll always be with you. Whether you come to Highgarden or not is your choice, but I will not leave you.”

Sansa looked down at the older girl, feeling slightly self-conscious of her height. “Will you have lemon cakes there?”

Margaery laughed gleefully. Leave it to Sansa to divert emotional conversations with unintentional humour. “Yes, all the lemon cakes you could want.”

“I suppose I'll come to Highgarden with you.”

“Just for the lemon cakes I reckon?”

“Perhaps.” Sansa was smiling teasingly, staring into Margaery's eyes and not breaking the gaze. She let the older girl lead her to the gates where they would retreat further into their own world and be left alone entirely.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summer, 2014**

“Nooooo way, there is just no way!”

“Why do you have to judge me for the choices I make?”

“It's because I think you are making the choice under some completely external influence and there is no other way for you to think like that otherwise, and I am concerned for you because of it.”

“What's wrong with Magikarp?” Sansa sounded indignant, but the expression on her face was marked with the desire to stifle her laughter more than anything that registered to anger.

The girls were sitting on the floor of their apartment with Chinese food, a plethora of video games, and several game consoles sprawled around them. A half-eaten pizza sat on the table behind at their backs as it became colder with neglect. The N64 was on and they were playing Pokemon Stadium when Magikarp's Splash was selected as the challenge. The game started and they started tapping the A button furiously, neither of them succeeding in actually scoring points. 

“What's wrong with Magikarp is...” Margaery continued tapping her controller relentlessly. “You can't even evolve it properly. You need EXP. share to train it or else it's stuck being useless forever.”

“Yeah, well, I think it's cute, useless or not. Kinda like me.”

In an instant, Margaery snapped to turn to Sansa, dropping her controller and sitting on top of the girl. Sansa dropped her controller too, never averting her eyes from Margaery's.

“You're not useless. You're cute, but not useless.” Margaery stared at Sansa now, really seeing everything that could have gone unnoticed in the girl. She'd seen the beginnings of small dark circles forming under her eyes, something she knew was because of the work load that came with the last year of university. She saw in her eyes a steely disposition when she needed it, and she saw a tender girl who carried the world's troubles in her heart. She didn't know how long she was staring, but she brought herself back to her senses.

“Besides, you can't just keep thinking you're useless all the time, we have so many more things we have to do.”

“Oh really? Like what?” Sansa was grinning to herself, secretly basking in getting Margaery angry; not entirely angry, but just seeing her little reactions whenever she said something she knew would not please her.

“Get married, that's one of them.” She moved quickly as she released Sansa, getting up to head to the kitchen. Sansa followed her with their plates and the takeaway bags from the restaurant.

Margaery resumed the conversation. “So, how about it? Would you like to cross one more thing off the list with me?” She had her back to Sansa, looking through the items in a drawer that neither of them ever touched. Sansa could hear her heart beginning to pump loudly, the sound of futilely keeping calm reaching to nearly audible levels.

“What- what do you mean?”

Margaery found what she was looking for, moving quickly to close the space between her and Sansa. Their noses were barely touching and Sansa could feel Margaery's breath, almost equally as fragmented as hers.

“Marry me, Sansa Stark.”

Sansa stood in place, the rhythm of her body's natural movements becoming completely disturbed and disoriented. She breathed to the beat of a 3/4 waltz that stumbled through her lungs. Her senses scrambled themselves, hearing her heart in her ears and feeling her stomach in her throat. She couldn't find anything to say as her body commanded total control of her sentience.

She didn't know when it happened, but Margaery was on her knee now, holding up the light of Sansa's world in the little navy box that sat perched on her fingers. “It would be my honour to have your hand and to do everything in the world with you.”

“I, wow. I can't...”

For a moment, a flash of uncertain shock appeared on Margaery's face, and left as soon as it came while she stared blankly at Sansa, still holding up the box and still on her knee.

“No, what I mean is... I just can't believe it. Of course I'll marry you. Why would you think anything else?” She continued reprimanding Margaery for her doubt, as she put the ring on Sansa's finger, laughing through tears and wiping away Sansa's.

She stood levelled with Sansa now, staring at her through watery eyes and batting eyelashes. All she could manage herself was a gracious smile, relief and adrenaline coursing through her body simultaneously.

“Well, Sansa. My beautiful girl... Mrs Stark-Tyrell.” She tested the name on her lips, utterly impressed with the way it sounded. “Looks like you're stuck with me now.”

**Roses are in your future; we leave the lions behind**

“Come along now, Sansa. The boat is waiting for us.”

Sansa could not believe what was happening and was still in a daze throughout the night. She finally got to be with Margaery, she finally got to leave this wretched place entirely. She took one last look at the Red Keep before making her way toward the dock, not at all feeling like she would be leaving a piece of herself behind.

At the shore, there were several people gathered which included the queen and her guard, and Sansa's heart sunk. Perhaps she wouldn't be able to leave after all.

Beside her, Margaery was unperturbed, and even rather indifferent when she saw the congregation of people to see them off, and even more so when she heard the queen talking. Her brothers Willas, Garlan and Loras, stood near the woman, casually talking between themselves as Margaery and Sansa approached the harbour.

They stopped before the queen, who was already eyeing them intensely as they approached her.

“Do you sincerely think any place in these Seven Kingdoms will leave you in obscurity entirely?” She spoke vehemently, there were icebergs in her words that sunk any trace of happiness Sansa had left and replaced it with unwavering despair.

“I will always know where you are, I will always know what you are doing. If need be, I will know where to find you if I shall decide I need you again. When that happens, you will be back at King's Landing faster than you jumped off your little rump and seized the first opportunity to leave.”

Margaery smiled dangerously, almost besting the queen's ferocity. “Thank you, dear queen, but I don't think that will be necessary at all. My brothers will be here for your correspondence needs, and the rest of my family will be here as well. You will therefore not need for anything else with myself or the Lady Stark.”

She curtseyed, her curt politeness not going unseen by the queen who only glared at the two girls, boring her eyes into their souls to be remembered.

Margaery looked back as she called toward the queen. “If you do need us, please do not feel hesitant to speak with Garlan, Willas or Loras. If you so choose, you may even write a letter, and we will see what can be done.” She waved to the gatherers and no one in particular, seeming to make the action a display of dismissal rather than departure.

She took hold of Sansa's hand as they made their way closer to their ship. “See, that wasn't so bad, was it? Everything is taken care of. You only need to worry about what we will do first when we arrive!”

Sansa was still uneasy. She was always left slightly traumatized whenever she interacted with the queen, and Margaery understood this better than anyone else.

“You're with me now Sansa. I will be the one to protect you. And now that we're far away from the Keep, it will just be us now.”

She grasped her hand tighter, and looked reassuringly at Sansa. Sansa, in turn, finally managed to meet Margaery's eyes and returned the girl's smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**In a grocery store**

Margaery had been ridiculously busy, and the work day wasn't even done for her. She took it upon herself to get some groceries that she really needed during her break at work, along with a quick lunch that she could eat at her desk without hassle.

She'd been walking through the cereal aisle when a little boy ran from around the corner and into her.

He paused when he hit Margaery and looked up at her towering figure. He was smiling gleefully when he finally made contact with her eyes. “Sorry miss!”

“It's quite alright young man.”

He smiled again and dashed for his cereal box, knowing exactly where it was and how to get it. He moved swiftly as the auburn-haired girl from the bus made her way to the boy with her cart, which he almost crashed into again.

“Rickon, you have to slow down.” She eyed the cereal box he was clutching to his chest and raised her eyebrows. “Seriously?”

Margaery watched at the exchange, grinning to herself as she observed how the girl acted with the child. She wondered who the boy was to her when just then, a tall, brutish man with dark curly hair appeared beside the girl and greeted her, and they hugged for what seemed like quite the while. The boy screeched the man's name upon seeing him, dropped the cereal box and started punching the man's leg like a punching bag, who carried him easily and tossed him into the air, much to the boy's delight and the girl's concern.

There was a sinking feeling in Margaery's stomach that she couldn't quite place. It seemed to have been bred of disappointment and betrayal, but Margaery knew that the strange sense of entitlement came from jealousy, and all she could do was just walk away. It was the only thing that was appropriate to do. How did she feel so attached to the girl if she had never even spoke one word to her? She turned away as she made her way to the counter. She would pick up her lunch and walk back to her office, and the memory of the girl would not leave her mind, not even when she went home and waited until she could sleep off the hours until the next work day.

She thought better of it with the rejuvenation of sleep, perhaps the man, Jon, was simply just a friend or maybe a cousin. Perhaps Margaery had been overdramatic and jumping to conclusions got the best of her this time. She indeed had let her emotions cloud her judgement, and what she saw should not have changed her attitude toward the mysterious girl. If anything, it should make her all the more curious and interested in her family. Although her new deduction consolated her just a bit, what unnerved Margaery most was the feelings the girl afflicted on her without even being aware of she was doing, and the feeling of being undone by this stranger was both exhilarating and concerning. What more would this girl be capable of doing to her if they actually had the chance to speak to each other?

**Autumn, 2014**

It had been a long night and an even longer reception, and Margaery believed that Sansa may have had a bit more to drink today than what she was usually used to having. The two girls crashed into their cottage, giggling as they gathered their dresses to make sure they could fit through the bedroom door and making a big ordeal of the sheer grandiosity of their dresses.

“I love you even when you snore and wake me up in the middle of the night? Are you serious? What kind of vow is that?”

Sansa was giggling madly now, still struggling with her dress and taking her shoes off. “What, you'd rather I lie during our vows?”

“Your sister sure got a kick out of it.”

“It's because she's always said you don't look like the type to be so human like the rest of us. She thinks you're perfect.”

“And what do you think?”

Sansa finally got out of her shoes and was working on her dress when she stopped and decided to make her way toward her new wife. She hovered just slightly above Margaery, who knew that the girl was looking for a kiss, so she stood on her tiptoes and kissed her as they did when they were in the ceremony. Sansa pulled away and looked at Margaery again.

“I think, it's one thing she and I can actually agree on.”

Margaery was grinning, remembering the toast that Arya had made during the reception. Before she knew it, she was tackled onto the bed and landed on her back. Sansa was staring down at her, admiration written all over her face and Margaery could not help but blush at the attention.

“No, but really, do you ever wonder why I proposed to you the way I did?”

“I don't know, maybe because you already ordered pizza and Chinese food that day and didn't want to bother taking me to a nice restaurant to do it?” Sansa became increasingly comfortable with teasing Margaery, and Margaery seemed to have liked it a lot more when Sansa challenged her than when she was just blushing away into silence.

“I'm kidding, but I don't know, I've actually thought about it, though it never really occurred to me to ask about it. I guess it was rather spur of the moment, and it did seem rather spontaneous. You couldn't stop staring at me and all of a sudden you just snap out of your trance and you're on your knees, and it took me minutes to process what you were doing.” Sansa smiled to herself as she recalled the memory, laughing at her past self and how she reacted to the moment. "It happened the way it did, and I think that's the only way it should be. It's all that matters, I don't care for the trivialities."

“I really don't know either. It just felt right. I felt like I didn't want to do it anywhere else. I wanted to show you off to the world, but I knew I'd have the reception for that.” Margaery paused, trying to gather her words and to articulate her thoughts. “I proposed to you at home, I think, because it's what I built with you. It was like my be all, end all. My place is with you, and with you is where I'm home. I figured there was no better place to start it all and to have forever with you than at home.”

Tears fell from Sansa's eyes again, not having run out from the ceremony and the reception. “I can't believe you're mine. It's just so incredible how it all falls into place with you.”

“I think this means we have to get back to that list.”

“Okay, and what does this utterly important list have to say that it has to interrupt our honeymoon?”

“We have to make a baby.”

Margaery jumped on top of Sansa, smirking devilishly at the girl as she helped her out of her wedding dress. The night didn't seem long enough for the two girls, and not even the morning would suffice as well.


	5. Chapter 5

**When winter fell, the wolves howled to the North**

Everyone was dressed in black. Black was the colour of loss, of submission. But more than loss, it was the colour of defeat. It was acknowledging that something had been lost and that mourning was all that one could do. Margaery didn't think this would suffice.

Still, she approached Catelyn, the woman who was sitting in the front with her family occupying the entire row. When Catelyn saw her appear, she stood up and opened her arms for an embrace.

“Hello dear, how are you?”

Margaery was silent, listening to the sobs and the sniffling of the room. When she remained silent, Catelyn kept talking to her as if there was no silence in the conversation.

“It's so good that you managed to make it today.” She smiled to the best of her ability. The woman was forlorn, that much was certain, but there was the tiniest traces of the pleasant easiness still in the expression that Margaery had become so familiar with. Despite all the suffering Catelyn had gone through, to be able to still see these little traces spoke volumes to Margaery of just how strong the woman really was, whether or not she'd let anyone see it.

Margaery hesitated, eyed the open casket, and then the row of family members sat near Catelyn, and she blurted out her words before she could stop herself.

“I'm afraid I can't stay, I'm sorry. I've got many things to do and I don't think they can wait...” she trailed off, abruptly letting herself free from the woman's touch and swiftly moved toward the exit. She looked apologetically to Catelyn, not knowing how to react around her anymore. When she met her eyes, there was understanding on her face that knew of grief and suffering at its utmost profoundness. Margaery refused to acknowledge it and rushed to her car, speeding to her apartment as she left Catelyn's face behind.

**In a graveyard**

She stood there, not knowing what to say or do. Before that, she sat before the gate with her car idling for at least half an hour, and finally decided to turn the car off when she thought better about where she was. After that, she stood beside her open car door, staring off at the wretched patch on the ground beyond her car.

Eventually, she made it to where she wanted to be. She looked down at the tombstone, inhaling only once every so often as if to respect the ground she stood on, trying to calm herself of the storm that was raging inside her. In one swift movement she was on her knees, clutching onto to marble tombstone as if the ground opened up under her and threatened her life. She was sobbing into her arms, a girl lost and profoundly destroyed.

“I'm so sorry. I wish I'd seen you before you left.”

**Autumn, 2015**

Margaery sat in a dimly lit room, the space only illuminated by the streetlights, the moon, and her computer screen. Her desk was minimalistic at best; a mahogany piece that looked nothing more than a table with one drawer. It had her computer, neatly stacked papers, a bottle of whiskey and a half-empty glass. She drank the glass like it had contained water, and set it down before thinking about whether or not to refill it. When she recollected her thoughts, she began typing, and did not stop until she was done, and then she reviewed the document on her computer:

 

_Dr. Whittaker – Patient Confidentiality Assignment_

_Take 3 things that stood out to you in our discussion and elaborate on why it stood out to you and what it means to you:_

_1.You asked me why I wrote so much about Sansa and I in another life_  
 _2.You brought up the fact that I used third person to write the stories_  
 _3._

_There is really only two things that stood out to me. I've thought about what you said and I thought to consider it as a critique of style, but I realize now that maybe you were right about how I am trying to distance myself from what actually happened. I feel like if I just stayed on the outside and never experienced anything, I won't be hurt as much. But not going to her memorial, not going to her burial was the biggest mistake I could have ever made, and now I'm suffering for it. Truthfully, I'm writing because you told me I should write again, and I realize now that everything I do revolves around her. I'm only trying to hold onto the memory of my sweet Sansa, and I hope that I haven't missed anything or got it all wrong. That's why I write, it's so I can never forget to punish myself for the choices I've made. I think that's the very least I could do for her at this point._

**Author's Note:**

> Ehhhh, screw it. I got lazy and I decided I'm just going to put the codes here. Y'all deserved it!
> 
> So you know how the subsections are labelled? Yeah, look again, and look closely.
> 
>  **Dates** = stuff that actually happened  
>  **Settings** = stuff that actually happened but Margaery remembers incorrectly... these are her fears manifested  
>  **Names of events/ GOT references** = Margaery's imagination... the stuff she's writing to remember! I daresay you are not entirely wrong if you'd like to believe that these parts are Margaery's own stories
> 
> I hope you lot enjoyed it, thanks for tolerating!


End file.
